


molasses slow and just as sweet

by wytch-lyghts (flight_on_broken_wings)



Series: take the heart [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Caleb bottoms babey, Desk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Kink Discovery, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slow Burn, That's Edging Baby, it's sweet though, they love each other but don't know it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22808176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flight_on_broken_wings/pseuds/wytch-lyghts
Summary: “You should not joke about such things,” Caleb had threatened the first time Fjord made an offhand comment about the desk in his study before carrying him off to a bed. The second time he considered that desk, Fjord had more of a plan.* * * * * * * * * * * * *Slowly building smut. Can be read alone, no context required. However, if you have read "take the heart you thought you had", this excerpt falls right around chapters 14 and 15, when Caleb and Fjord are spending all that time alone together.
Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast
Series: take the heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639663
Comments: 15
Kudos: 247





	1. part one

It could have been innocent, from an observer’s eye.

Considerate even, how Fjord announced his approach with the soft scuff of his boots across the carpet. As if everything – his meandering path, his unhurried gait, the way his eyes and callused fingers dragged over the the contents of the booklaiden tables of Caleb’s study like he ever had any interest in their contents, only to flick back up to where Caleb sat, his eyes darker than perhaps Caleb had ever seen them – weren’t such a purposeful distraction. 

Fjord neared the desk where Caleb sat hunched over, putting ink to parchment in careful, neat letters as though he was anything but hyper aware of every scuff, every creak of the floorboards, announcing every step closer of Fjord’s approach. Fjord stopped just beyond Caleb’s periphery. He stopped, and leaned casually against the wall just out of view, as if that hadn’t been his destination all along.

Pretense was all it was. Except it was hardly even that anymore. 

Fjord had lost either patience or interest in keeping his looking discreet, his eyes hooded and glances fleeting. Now he just _looked_ , his gaze impossibly heated, a slow, deeply contented smirk curling across his face, without even the decency to shroud the intent, the _want_ behind the gold in his eyes. Want, and a growing frustration that Caleb’s research was keeping him longer than he had estimated an hour ago.

In truth, Caleb had felt Fjord’s eyes on him — damn near predatory — since well before Fjord had even risen from his seat across the study: a lazy heat he couldn’t quite curb, unfurling in the pit of his stomach and seeping outward, a slow sprawl through his veins like warm honey until his senses were dripping in it. The shiver that crept up his spine and prickled at the back of his neck was the least distracting part of it. He was too warm, even in the dim light feeling the need to drop his head lower so that his hair fell before his eyes in an effort to conceal the flush creeping across his face. His pulse already quickened, Caleb refused to allow his breath to become short or shallow and do the same. 

No, it wasn’t that Caleb didn’t _want_. Infuriatingly and in a way that was beyond his control, the issue was quite the opposite. 

It was that there were _rules_ to this sort of thing. A time, a place, an appropriate means of _asking_ rather than whatever in the damned hells _this_ was. Fjord knew he was busy; Caleb had said as much, regardless of the late hour. So it was sheer spite which fueled Caleb’s refusal to acknowledge every hint and heady look turned his way. But it was a distraction all the same. 

A golden haze, cloying against his overheated skin and threatening to overcome his better judgement. Molasses slow and just as sweet. It was maddening. 

Now Fjord stood behind him and there was nothing Caleb could do about how exposed the back of his neck felt. He hardly saw the parchment anymore. Only through a concerted effort of will was he able to keep his quill moving, ink flowing, each line and curve no shakier than the last. Another breath, _focus,_ he told himself, and in a moment more he could ignore Fjord’s advances altogether. 

That was his undoing, truthfully. 

In that moment in which he’d convinced himself that Fjord could _behave_ , once Caleb had finally begun to ignore him, all it took was the failure of creaking floorboards to warn him, the sudden brush of warm breath down his neck, and Fjord’s voice pitched low in his ear to send a visible shiver down his spine. 

“You’ve been staring at that page for a while now, darling,” Fjord purred in Caleb’s ear, a low rumble in his chest building, spilling over into words as he crowded closer. Too warm, too close, too much and not enough. 

Caleb bit his tongue, his shoulders tensing involuntarily at the sudden touch at the back of his neck, Fjord’s fingertips toying, stroking idle shapes over sensitive bare skin just shy of his hairline. He couldn’t help but shudder at that, the breath suddenly leaving him in a wordless sigh, his shoulders relaxing as Fjord’s hand settled at the nape of his neck more firmly. His calluses were rough, but Fjord’s touch was gentle as he massaged light circles with his thumb where tension had pooled and now began to drain away so obediently, though not to Caleb’s will.

Caleb’s only recourse was to bite the inside of his cheek _hard_ , to clear his throat after a moment’s weakness, and adjust his grip on the quill still in his hand. It had been suspended above the parchment for far too long, unmoving. Ink had surely dripped across the page, but Caleb couldn’t summon the will to open his eyes and see. If closing them had been a conscious decision, he didn’t remember making it.

But he didn’t have to open his eyes to _feel_ the smirk on Fjord’s lips as it dragged down the side of his neck with the playful scrape of teeth, tongue darting out to taste where Caleb’s pulse leapt beneath his overheated skin. It pulled a very sudden and entirely inappropriate whine from Caleb’s lips. 

Startled, Caleb seized up, covering it with an unconvincing cough, the sound strangled in his throat. Fjord just chuckled darkly, pressing another damp kiss behind his ear. 

“ _Scheisse_ , Fjord,” Caleb rasped in complaint, nearly _groaned_ if he’d had any less control over himself. “I said –”

Whatever he was going to say was lost completely, cut off by a sharp gasp forcing its way past his lips as light trailing touches at the back of his neck turned a sudden pressure, blunted claws scraping _just enough_ as Fjord’s fingers curled into a fist in Caleb’s hair, pulling tightly. His spine arched to accommodate, every fiber of him buzzing warmly, trembling, the wire-taut tension holding himself together melting. Caleb’s mouth fell open with an aborted cry as pleasure bloomed like live coals in the pit of his stomach and from everywhere he felt Fjord’s hands and lips blazing, teasing so slowly across his skin. 

he could have told Fjord to stop. Could have pushed him away... But Caleb did none of these things.

He shook, breath stuttering, didn’t even resist as Fjord tugged his head back to give himself even better access to the soft, unmarked column of Caleb’s throat. Tingling warmth cascaded down his spine like sparks, pleasure clinging thickly, dulling to his senses, muffling the voice in the back of his mind that had been inclined to tell Fjord off just as surely as that voice had been muffled and forgotten by the quiet praise that Fjord murmured in his ear.

“That’s it, love,” Fjord whispered, the vibration of each word in his chest, pressed to Caleb’s back. He trailed open-mouthed kisses up his neck to nibble at the edge of Caleb’s jaw, easily teasing a bruise to the surface. Fjord’s hand in his hair curled tighter, claws scraping, pulling a soft sigh from Caleb’s lips as he went utterly pliant in Fjord’s hands. As he did nothing. As he let Fjord take his fill. 

“Beautiful,” Fjord sighed, a deeply contented purr resonating in his chest. “Let me take care of you,” he murmured, his free hand ghosting up the front of Caleb’s torso, up his throat, stopping at his jaw to coax Caleb to turn his head and allow Fjord to better capture his mouth in a searing kiss.

 _Now_ Caleb properly groaned, the soft complaint not quite resistance but close as Fjord’s tongue dipped into his mouth, chasing the taste of him, heat and _more_ and deeper. He groaned, fingers twisting into the front of Fjord’s shirt. It was easy, so easy to give in, to let Fjord give him what he would, and take what he wanted. But still, even as that internal conflict played tensely over his brow, Caleb pulled away, drawing a sharp breath into his lungs. Fjord only let him go so far, resting his forehead against Caleb’s was a displeased sigh, but it was far enough. 

“I told you,” Caleb rasped, already damn near devastated, “I –”

“I know,” Fjord murmured, his voice low and gravely, testing the limits of Caleb’s self-control. “Busy,” he summarized for him, leaning in to steal a kiss, nipping at Caleb’s lower lip as he pulled away. “But you’ve been at this all day. It’ll be here tomorrow.”

A frustrated noise rose from the back of Caleb’s throat. “I do not have time tomorrow, I need this done toni–” 

“An hour then,” Fjord amended, though it was not his first choice. “It’ll still be here in an hour.” Reminding Caleb of his grip at the nape of his neck with a light tug, Fjord ducked his head to trail fleeting kisses down his throat – gentle and teasing and so damn tempting. 

Fjord chuckled darkly at the soft sigh that parted Caleb’s lips as his eyes fluttered closed, mouthing at his leaping pulse. 

“I think a break would do you good, love. I won’t keep you long, won’t even take you far. Or don’t you trust me?” he teased, and Caleb didn’t even have to open his eyes to know the wicked grin – all canines – that touched Fjord’s lips. It was all the warning he had before Caleb felt teeth nip sharply at the soft underside of his jaw as Fjord worked a dark, punishing bruise into his overheated skin. 

Caleb moaned, quiet and breathy, but impossible to hide even if he’d had the wherewithal to, his last thread of self control snapped somewhere in the back of his mind. Back arching, quill and ink abandoned on the desk, with shaky hands he clutched at the back of Fjord’s neck, pulling him closer. Needing him closer.

Both of Fjord’s hands found Caleb’s waist, and as Fjord straightened up, Caleb found himself dragged out of his chair and to his feet right with him. Steadying himself with both arms around Fjord’s neck, a complaint didn’t even have time to reach his lips before Fjord was kissing him, deep and eager like he needed him to breathe. Everything the fleeting, coaxing brush of tongue and gentle nip of teeth before hadn’t been. 

Fjord’s hands surely left bruises at his hips, rucking up his shirt in search of bare skin and, finding it, pulling Caleb flush against his chest. The thundering of Caleb’s own heart tripping over itself was whitenoise screaming in his ears. _Need_ , reckless in its wanting, coursed through him molten hot, bleeding through to the surface everywhere Fjord touched him, everywhere Caleb wanted him to touch. 

Fjord panted softly, grinning against his lips and pushing forward a step until he had Caleb pinned against the edge of the desk. 

“Wha— _ngh,_ _Fjord_ ,” Caleb gasped, dropping his head against Fjord’s shoulder to muffle a surprised cry, too late, as his partner slid a knee forward between his thighs, rolling their hips together in a slow, filthy grind. Caleb bit his lip, pressing himself into Fjord’s shoulder in a desperate effort to stifle the quiet sounds that each rock forward and deliriously slow slide back punched from his chest.

“Hmm?” Fjord hummed, a breathless chuckle bubbling up from his chest. “What was that, love?” 

One of Fjord’s hands dropped down to shamelessly grope at Caleb’s ass before he dragged his palm heavily up the curve of his spine, claws raking over the thin fabric of his shirt hard enough to leave faint red lines beneath it in their wake. With his other hand Fjord twisted his fingers into Caleb’s hair, tugging his head back sharply – no more sharply than made Caleb squirm and flush the prettiest shade – wringing more of those delightful little sounds out of him. 

Try as he might, though how much effort he gave it was up for debate, Fjord couldn’t help his huff of amusement, immeasurably satisfied by Caleb’s choked cry as Fjord tightened his grip in his hair. He angled Caleb’s head back, his eyes wide and glazed over with pleasure, panting. Throat bared and begging to be marked. To be claimed. Fjord’s eyes followed that pretty flush as it crept from the smattering of freckles across the bridge of Caleb’s nose to where it disappeared past his collar. 

“I couldn’t quite hear that, darlin’,” he murmured, unable to resist sucking and nibbling a dark bruise over Caleb’s fluttering pulse. Even if Caleb would magic it away by morning. Even if no one would see it, and _know_ it was his, that _Caleb_ was his.

“Makin’ the prettiest fuckin’ sounds for me, Caleb,” Fjord groaned, his hips stuttering, rocking forward of their own accord in an uncoordinated grind, a messy bid for friction. 

Stooping enough to get his free hand under one of Caleb’s thighs and lifting, it was quick and indelicate but Fjord got Caleb up on the edge of his desk, shoving aside open books and unfinished paperwork – ink still wet – and bruskly pushing Caleb’s knees apart to accommodate Fjord’s hips between them. Caleb made a frustrated little sound between the pleased and desperate ones, gasping at being lifted and groaning in complaint as his neatly organized parchments and books scattered, ink smearing, tomes thumping to the ground, parchment drifting to the carpet. 

But Fjord didn’t care, couldn’t make himself. One hand on Caleb’s waist, the other buried in his hair, he yanked Caleb flush against him, felt Caleb already hard against his hip, canting forward in a messy grind and not leaving anything of his own want, pressed to Caleb’s lower abdomen, to the imagination. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed as Caleb’s legs wrapped more securely around his waist, no resistance at all as Fjord worked up the delicate curve of his neck to Caleb’s mouth, red and damp and _used_ , ceding easily beneath Fjord’s lips and teeth and tongue. “So good for me,” he murmured against Caleb’s lips, kissing him hard before he could muster a response, dipping his tongue inside and controlling the pace without any effort from his partner to push back, to reciprocate in kind; Fjord hardly retained enough of his senses, discordant and clamoring, and drowning in need and want and _Caleb_ , to consider just how readily Caleb surrendered that to him. It made his blood _burn_ , his cock painfully hard and twitching with every little sound and sigh Caleb made.

“Let me make you feel good, darlin’,” he rasped, pleaded, nipping at Caleb’s lip. 

Fjord’s hips stuttered at Caleb’s ragged breaths, his small gasps, fingers clutching desperately at Fjord’s back for purchase. Fjord felt every nerve alight, something vaguely primal and in possession of far too much control deeply, inexorably thrilled by how pliable, how docile, how more than willing Caleb was in his grip, melting against his chest. It was intoxicating, the trusting, wordless, _thoughtless_ satisfaction rolling off of Caleb in waves. 

He needed an answer, needed it now.

“Fuck, _fuck Caleb,_ let me make you feel good, make you forget this shit for a while. Let me take care of you, _fuck_ ,” he hissed, unable to stop the deluge of words, wants, promises from tumbling forward, whispered against his skin as he mouthed at Caleb’s pulse. Fjord worked a hand between their bodies to thumb over the buckle of Caleb’s belt, his fingers drifting just a little lower, knuckles brushing over the hard outline of Caleb’s cock within his trousers. 

“F– _Fjord_ ,” Caleb rasped, his breath shuddering, voice wrecked. Fuck, how he _whimpered_ as Fjord’s hand brushed over him, his hips jerking and straining for more, something, _anything_ as Fjord rubbed lightly over the head of his cock trapped against his thigh. Breathtaking, watching him like this, on the razor edge of desperation as the line between _want_ and _need_ blurred and vanished. Caleb dropped his head against Fjord’s shoulder, the wanton groan dragged out of his chest tapering off in a near sob. “ _Bitte_ ,” Caleb gasped, “bitte Fjord, _please_.”

A growl tearing itself free from his chest, Caleb’s ruined plea was all the prompting Fjord needed to make quick work of Caleb’s belt buckle and start fumbling, pulling at the ties of his trousers. Caleb squirmed, panting, his calves behind Fjord’s thighs pulling him closer in a desperate search for friction, broken Zemnian tumbling off his tongue. 

Fjord took pity, shushing Caleb’s little sighs and whines. He reclaimed his mouth, pleased by how Caleb opened readily at the first brush of tongue. Fjord worked the front of his trousers open, drinking in Caleb’s sigh of relief as the pressure trapping his cock lessened. Sliding his fingers past his smallclothes to cup his aching member, Fjord gripped him by the base of his cock and stroked lightly, teasingly as Caleb jerked hard, nearly shouting in surprise. 

“Fjord _fjordfuck_ ,” Caleb choked on a curse, breath ragged and eyes closed tight, his fingers digging like claws into the back of Fjord’s shoulders. 

“Gods you’re a picture,” Fjord groaned, his forehead pressed to Caleb’s. He rolled his hips forward at the same slow, methodical pace that he took Caleb loosely in his hand, stroking from base to tip, occasionally thumbing roughly over his leaking slit. He smeared precum over the head of Caleb’s cock, angry red and begging for attention almost as directly as the soft little pleas and sighs falling from his lips. “Perfect, fucking perfect for me,” he murmured, squeezing just a little tighter but refusing to quicken his pace, no matter how Caleb’s knees fell open wider, how his legs pulled him closer, his hips canting forward, a low groan falling from his lips.

“None of that now,” Fjord tsked, pinching his hip, nipping punishingly at the bruises forming at Caleb’s throat. Still, he had to free a hand to loosen the ties of his own trousers, the pressure growing too much as Caleb rutted and writhed against him; arousal rippled warm and distracting through his core, coiling tightly low in his belly as all those pretty little noises — even if a touch too desperate, too unsatisfied for his liking — made Fjord’s cock stir with interest. “I’ve got you, just hold on now,” he hushed, twisting his wrist, jacking Caleb off just a little faster, revelling in his soft sigh of relief, his head tipped back, panting open-mouthed and needy. “Wanna _see_ you.”

There was far too much clothing between them.

Fjord pulled his hand away from Caleb’s dick, ignoring the petulant whine it earned him. Lifting the hem of Caleb’s shirt, his partner barely caught on fast enough to raise his arms as Fjord pulled the material over his head, tossing it aside. Caleb’s boots and socks went next, dropped to the floor and kicked aside where Fjord wouldn’t trip on them. Even as he moved mechanically, hurriedly undressing him, Fjord took the opportunity to stand back and admire his work. 

Caleb looked _ruined_. A deep flush colored his skin a lovely warm shade from his cheekbones to navel, turning darker red still where his cock peaked out of the open front of his trousers, still achingly hard and beginning to bead precum against his hip. That flush blended beautifully with the dusting of freckles over his shoulders, with dark copper hair trailing down his chest, and every bruise Fjord worked up and down his throat, bite marks still standing out red against the canvas of his skin. Caleb’s chest heaved, shoulders lax, head tipped back ever so slightly as he watched Fjord through his eyelashes, eyes dark with want and glazed over with pleasure. As Fjord stilled, drawn in by those eyes, a slow, contented smirk curled across Caleb’s lips, reddened, still damp and nearly bruised. Fjord watched as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth, tongue darting across it before biting down, slow, deliberate, undressing Fjord with his eyes. 

Too much, _too much._

Fjord shivered, from cold or heat he didn’t know, his skin prickling with it. A possessive curl of heat unfurling low in his belly, another rumbling growl began to vibrate in his chest, jolting him into movement again. Fjord yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it aside before stepping forward into the cradle of Caleb’s open thighs again. His hands settled possessively on the outsides of Caleb’s thighs, tugging his ass closer to the edge of the desk, pulling him flush against Fjord from collar to hip.

Caleb hummed appreciatively, resting his cheek atop Fjord’s shoulder. He looked utterly content, his fingers brushing up Fjord’s sides, ghosting back down the front of his chest. The crescents of his fingernails scraped lightly, skimming over coarse dark hair only to pause at the waistline of Fjord’s trousers. Pads of his fingers playing over the already loosened laces, Caleb’s eyes flicked back up to Fjord’s, wordlessly seeking permission, direction, a nod to tell him it was okay to touch. 

Fjord shook his head. 

He watched confusion and consternation flicker over Caleb’s expression in equal part. Holding his gaze, asking for trust, Fjord took hold of both of Caleb’s wrists with his right hand, and with his left pushed gently against his sternum until Caleb got the idea, slowly laying back against the desktop with a shaky inhale. Fjord leaned forward, suspended over him with his weight braced on his forearm. He pressed Caleb’s hands to the edge of the desk over his head, their breaths mingling for a long moment as he held them there, so close that Fjord could _feel_ the rapid, shallow rise and fall of Caleb’s chest. He could almost taste him. Had only to lean in and claim him. But he didn’t, restraining himself for that long moment, long enough before releasing Caleb’s wrists that he conveyed a simple request, a simple command, without needing to voice a word: _keep them there_. 

A small choked sound slipped past Caleb’s lips at the dark look of intent in Fjord’s eyes. His fingers curled obediently around the edge of the desk, holding tight, and not letting go. 

Fjord licked his lips, his nerves buzzing, heat coiling tightly in his groin, pressure building at the base of his spine like a spring about the snap. He couldn’t help it, had never had Caleb so willing, so perfect for him. It was new territory he was very much enjoying, with the vague awareness flickering at the back of his mind that he ought to explore it carefully. 

He leaned down close to Caleb’s ear, nipping at his throat, humming a deeply pleased note at the faint shiver it elicited. “Good boy,” Fjord purred, pitching his voice low and rough, but not quite letting himself enjoy the warm haze that descended after those words until he hazarded a glance back to Caleb’s face to judge their reception. And _good gods_ was he not disappointed. 

Caleb’s head was tipped back against the rosewood, his eyes open, but just barely. A soft, lust-drunk look of quiet bliss was written across his face, a short huff of breath slipping past his lips like even he was surprised by how much this was doing for him. A full body shiver worked down his spine. Slowly, slowly, he relaxed, his spine going languid, eyes drifting closed, curling his fingers tighter around the edge of the desk above his head. 

Fjord gentled a kiss, soothing, over the bruises marking his throat, whispering quiet praise into flushed skin as he worked lower, pulling away slowly. Not a punishment, but part of his promise. Until finally, finally, he stood upright again between Caleb’s knees, working his trousers and smallclothes down and off before hiking Caleb’s legs up a little higher on his hips, enjoying the beautiful sprawl of him, naked across the desk. 

And Caleb was going to have to work at this desk, going to have to concentrate at it; that thought only made Fjord more determined to make that difficult for him.

He smoothed a hand up the outside of Caleb’s thigh, over his hip, up his soft, trembling side. Gently, he dragged his blunted claws back down over the sharp angle of Caleb’s hip, smirking at how he rocked forward, gasping, his hips rolling in a helpless bid for Fjord to touch him where he wanted him more. 

“Fjord, bitte,” Caleb breathed, so quiet Fjord nearly missed it. “Bitte. Ich will dich, brauchst dich, _bitte Liebling_ ,” he murmured, eyes closed, hips still canting forward weakly, just begging for attention. The Zemnian was lost on Fjord, but the intent was impossible to mistake.

“I know, I know,” he sighed, a hand on Caleb’s hip pressing him firmly down against the desk, stilling the stutter of his hips. Licking a stripe over his palm, he took Caleb’s cock gently in his hand, dragging his thumb roughly up the underside of it. Slicking the pad of his thumb over his leaking slit, Fjord smeared precum across the head of his cock, and Caleb’s back bowed so prettily as he struggled to still his hips. So much he wanted to do to him. So many options, fantasies flashing through Fjord’s mind. Caleb gasped, sharp and pleased, only fueling them. 

Still he struggled against Fjord’s weight pinning his hips to the desk, not quite relaxing, not quite enough. “Enough of that,” Fjord chastised gently, but didn’t feel it in himself to enforce it as Caleb ignored him, rocking into each stroke of Fjord’s hand. Instead he just stilled his hand, made Caleb wait no matter how prettily he pouted, his brow pinched tight and bottom lip drawn between his teeth. 

Finally, finally, Caleb’s hips stilled. He exhaled, long and low, groaning in near resignation. Just a touch dramatic maybe, but then Caleb was losing patience. Fjord saw it in the tension returning to his shoulders and jaw, in the hard glint of frustration as his eyes came into focus. 

“ _Scheisse_ ,” Caleb rasped, wetting his lips. “Thought you were going to fuck me,” he muttered, still managing to sound petulant and impatient, no matter how his voice was wrecked. “Now you want to drag this out?” 

A low warning rumbled from behind Fjord’s sternum, his claws pressing sharply to Caleb’s hip. Without warning, he twisted his wrist _just so_ , slowing his already agonizing pace to drag his thumb hard up the sensitive underside of Caleb’s cock once more, toying roughly with his leaking slit. A quickly aborted shout caught in Caleb’s throat, his eyes flying open, back arching off the desk, toes curling. It was too much, too rough, Fjord knew, not quite enough to be painful, but just a touch mean. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Caleb hissed, swearing darkly in Zemnian, his knuckles white around the edge of the desk, the rest of him flushing furiously. 

“That was part of the plan, aye,” Fjord agreed, hiking Caleb’s knees up a little higher. He allowed a sharp smirk to curl across his lips, bending down over him, biting punishingly at the crest of his hip. He looked up at Caleb, who was straining to get his breath back under control, pupils blown wide, teetering beautifully on the edge of pleasure. “Did you want to hear the rest of it?” Fjord asked, words saccharine sweet, his intentions less so.

Caleb’s eyes darkened, swallowing dryly and stifling a groan. He went utterly still underneath him as Fjord shifted, crawling further up Caleb’s body, forcing the spread of his knees wider. He was less generous with his weight this time, allowing it to press Caleb down mercilessly into the desk and scattered parchments beneath him. 

Caleb nodded yes, just once, opting for silence.

“I was going to use my mouth on you,” Fjord purred, grinning at how Caleb shivered, flushing warm. He nibbled sweetly at Caleb’s collar, pulling away to hold his gaze. “But I think you’ve put me off that, seeing as you can’t hold still.” 

Caleb whined, the note dropping low in complaint. 

Fjord dipped lower to snag his nipple between his teeth, tugging the sensitive bud without warning, his tongue laving roughly, cutting off Caleb’s whine with a choked cry. He pressed a soft kiss, maddeningly gentle to the same stinging spot, glancing up at Caleb before continuing. “So now I think I’m just going to work you open, nice and slow, gentlemanly like. And I’m not gonna fuck you until you cum,” he warned, promised, _growled_ , taking far too much pleasure in how Caleb shuddered beneath him at the prospect. “And when I’m finished with you,” he rumbled, “if you haven’t cum again, then I’ve just got to start all over again, haven’t I.”

Caleb struggled to draw in shallow breaths, every line of him, every fiber trembling with need. “Bitte, bitte, _Fjord_ ,” he gasped roughly, “ _Fass mich endlich an_ , touch me, _please_.”

“You don’t get anything if you don’t behave yourself.”

Without another word, Fjord worked back down Caleb’s body, dragging light kisses and teasing kitten licks down his chest and over his soft belly and hips, muscles twitching and quivering, to the very base of Caleb’s cock, leaking and jerking in his hand. The poor thing was shaking, tears pricking his eyes, breath coming in halting gasps. His eyes were distant, fixed somewhere on the ceiling or beyond that.

“Caleb,” Fjord called his attention back gently, evenly, dropping the lower intonation. He traced soothing little patterns over Caleb’s side, waiting until Caleb’s eyes dropped to meet his. “Checking in. That sound okay to you?”

Caleb nodded resolutely. He cleared his throat, taking a breath, taking far too much effort to will it to be even. “ _Ja_ , yes, yes,” he agreed, eager. Still impatient, Fjord noted with a shallow huff. A soft strangled huff of breath caught in Caleb’s throat, confusing, until Fjord placed it as _amusement_. “I already said please, didn’t I?” Caleb asked, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk. 

“Oh I didn’t forget,” Fjord chuckled, raking his blunted claws lightly down Caleb’s side, his muscles jumping and twitching at their pass. “Think I’d like to hear it again.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Caleb grumbled a warning, but the desperate, breathy edge to it as Fjord’s hand stroked once, twice over the length of his cock stole away most its effect. 

He didn’t waste any more time in obliging him. Fjord pressed his thighs open wider, hand traveled lower, the pad of his thumb brushing over the fluttering rim of his entrance. He pressed against it lightly but made no effort to push inside, enjoying how Caleb flinched and swore, but didn’t strain against him. 

“I’m gonna need something to help ease the way, sweetheart,” Fjord promoted, huffing in amusement at the slow crawl of confusion through the overwhelming mix of desperate need and pleasure and the underlying frustration that it wasn’t quite _enough_ that pinched Caleb’s expression. “Oil,” Fjord stated, more directly. 

“Oh,” Caleb sighed, blinking, recollecting his thoughts. Fjord saw it happening before Caleb realized what he was doing, watched his grip go lax on the edge of the desk, moving a hand to gesture. 

“ _Hands_ ,” Fjord warned, a low growl, and Caleb froze at his tone before the meaning of it even settled. 

His expression morphed slowly, softening, a haze descending over his eyes. “Oh,” he breathed, even quieter this time. His arms dropped back against the desk, palms up, one hand settled in the other. Not even holding the edge of the desk anymore, but staying. “Ah, ehm, the b— in the bottom drawer,” he mumbled, accent thick, quietly tripping over his tongue. “Right… right side.”

“Good,” Fjord hummed, a pleased curl tugging at the corner of his mouth. He leaned down, pressed a damp kiss to the underside of Caleb’s cock laying heavy against his hip, tongue darting out roughly to taste. 

Caleb trembled, choking on a cry, fractured Zemnian harsh on his throat. 

“Now don’t you move.”


	2. part two

Fjord dribbled a generous amount of oil into his palm, taking a moment to warm it, slicked between his thumb and two fingers. 

Caleb laid back with his eyes closed, his spine rolling loosely, relaxed and pliable as Fjord pressed closer, gently opening Caleb’s thighs, nudged his knees apart wider. Caleb groaned at being left open, exposed to Fjord’s roving eyes and hands. He hooked an ankle behind Fjord’s thigh, coaxing him closer. 

Caleb flinched, breath catching in his chest at the first brush of Fjord’s thumb trailing slick down his perineum, circling lightly around his entrance. Fjord memorized it, all of it, the pale, unmarked insides of his thighs, the tight furl of muscle resisting the light pressure of just one finger as he eased just up to his first knuckle inside, Caleb’s cock still hard and begging to be touched, precum beading, leaking from the tip. He memorized it, wanted to remember the difference, wanted to see Caleb  _ ruined _ . His heart quickened, cock twitching at just the image his mind conjured up of him reddened and loose and  _ used _ , soaked in oil and filled, dripping with Fjord’s spend. 

Caleb shuddered beneath him as Fjord pressed forward, slowly easing that one finger past his fluttering and clenching rim. Fjord gave him a moment to adjust, to focus on breathing, relaxing, before withdrawing and in one fluid motion pushing inside as deep as he could, punching a surprised moan from Caleb’s chest. 

He was slow, patient, making sure Caleb was ready before pressing in another finger, then a third. Adding more oil, he diligently working Caleb open, scissoring his fingers wide and massaging his walls as Caleb clenched around him. Caleb responded so beautifully, the little sighs and gasps tumbling from his bitten lips intoxicating, his toes curling, hips just barely straining and stuttering to meet Fjord’s thrusts, to take more, to take him deeper. Drawing soothing little patterns against Caleb’s hipbone with his clean hand, Fjord tightened his grip, holding Caleb’s hips firmly against the desk before sinking three fingers past Caleb’s fluttering rim and seeking out that sensitive little bundle of nerves. He found it quickly, and without warning pressed down on it hard, massaging the rough pads of his fingers over Caleb’s prostate mercilessly. 

Caleb cried out, overwhelmed, the sound almost pained. Almost. He thrashed against Fjord’s hold on his hips, teeth grit together, moisture glinting at the corners of his eyes, closed tightly. Fjord’s name was a low, quaking mantra in his lips, breathless, broken by muffled cries and gasps for air. He was stunning like this, losing himself to the pleasure, in the throes of everything Fjord was giving him, of everything Fjord could wring out of him, still not enough. 

“Fjord,  _ Fjord _ ,  _ bitte, _ ” he choked, pleaded, writhing under the assault on his senses, fingers uselessly scrabbling, clawing for purchase at the edge of the desk. His thighs trembled, laid open, his neglected cock painfully full, begging to be touched, smearing a mess between his hip and navel. 

Fjord knelt down, biting a kiss into the soft, trembling inside of Caleb’s thigh. He added a fourth finger, teasing lightly over Caleb’s prostate with each thrust in and deliriously slow drag against his walls as he withdrew. Caleb  _ moaned, _ ragged and helpless, his back arching off the desk as his words collapsed into a fractured string of syllables between gasps and cries. It was all too much, overwhelming, just shy of painful; but not enough, not fast enough, not where Caleb wanted him or needed him to push him over the precipice of the release Caleb had been desperately careening toward. Fjord made sure of that. Made sure it wasn’t over too soon.

“You beg so pretty,” Fjord breathed, pulling back so slowly, watching the rim of Caleb’s hole, red and glistening with oil, stretch and clench greedily around his fingers. Slowly, so slowly, he pulled his fingers free, leaving Caleb’s entrance an oil-slicked mess, gaping and fluttering needily around nothing. 

He circled a finger gingerly around the lax ring of muscle, dipping inside, massaging at his walls as Caleb bucked madly, never a more desperate sound torn free from his chest, guttural low and utterly wanton

“Think I could make you cum just like this?” he asked, breathless, laving a soothing kiss over the inside of Caleb’s thigh, working up toward the crease of his groin and sucking a dark bruise into the tender flesh. “Without touching you at all? I reckon I could.  _ Gods _ ,  _ look _ at you.” Fjord dipped two fingers inside Caleb’s loose entrance, easy as anything, spreading him open. With a low, endlessly pleased purr, he ducked his head to lick into where his fingers held Caleb’s rim wide. 

The wet sounds he made, filling the otherwise quiet study as he sucked and laved at the tender, oil-slicked rim, his tongue and fingers delving past his entrance, it was obscene. Caleb’s head tipped back in a silent cry. His lungs stopped working and chest flushed furiously, back arched and heels digging in between Fjord’s shoulder blades. Sucking, working his tongue over Caleb’s entrance, Fjord thrust two fingers in deeper to find Caleb’s prostate again, pressing hard, rubbing firm, quick circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves, finally sending Caleb’s orgasm crashing over him. 

Spasming hard around his fingers, Caleb came with a choked shout, high and strained at first, falling with a strangled sob. His spine locked, hips stuttering uncontrollably and muscles clenching to fuck Fjord’s fingers deeper, harder against his prostate. His cock jerked hard, coming untouched and laying wet and spent against his abdomen. Fjord fucked him through it, four fingers working in and out slowly. Caleb whimpered at the constant assault, overstimulated and shaking, but those faint sounds were nothing compared to the low groan that dragged past his lips as Fjord swept a finger through the thick ropes of Caleb’s spend cooling against his abdomen, lifting it to his lips and licking it clean.

Caleb watched, transfixed a Fjord slicked his hand in Caleb’s spend as lubricant and took Caleb’s aching, jerking cock in hand, stroking him gently in the same rhythm as kept thrusting into him. He whimpered at the overstimulation, too sensitive, his hips twitching weakly, but he didn’t have it in him, too well and truly spent to do anything but damn near sob. He writhed under his attention as Fjord kept fucking into him, kept stroking, prolonging the orgasm that had crashed through him, leaving him wrecked. 

Finally Caleb shuddered, whimpered, pleaded in trembling Common, “Fjord, please,  _ I can’t _ .” 

Fjord paused a moment at that, his eyes impossibly dark when they met Caleb’s, electric blue and uncertain.

“Fucking gorgeous when you do that,” Fjord rasped, holding Caleb’s gaze as lifted his fingers to his mouth again, licking his thumb clean of Caleb’s spend and swallowing purposefully. Caleb  _ groaned _ , could’ve sobbed. Fjord tightened his grip around his softening cock, twisting his wrist, dragging a low whine past Caleb’s lips as he squirmed, overwhelmed. “I think you’ve got at least one more left in you. Unless you tell me to stop.”

Caleb didn’t have a response to that. He certainly didn’t tell Fjord to stop. But still Fjord hesitated, giving Caleb long enough to speak up, to change his mind, to say it would be too much, that he was done.

“Just fuck me,” Caleb rasped, his voice thin, spine going languid as he flopped back against the desk. Head tilted back, his whole body shuddered in the wake of orgasm that Fjord didn’t quite let him come back down from. He was already half hard again, and canting up into the too-loose ring of Fjord’s fingers.

“Patience,” Fjord tsked, but he didn’t wait any longer to pull his fingers from Caleb slowly, stretching him wide the whole way. He fumbled with the loose ties of his own trousers, shoving his hand down the front and grasping himself, rutting into his own hand. His cock throbbed painfully, the rush relief pulling a low groan from his chest as he freed himself from his trousers. He was fucking close as it was, ignoring his own needs for so long while he had Caleb like this, fuckin’ needy and desperate and pliable in his hands. 

Caleb’s eyes flew open as he lined himself up with Caleb’s cock, Fjord’s hard and leaking against his, still half interested and slick with oil and spend. Yanking Caleb’s hips back to meet his, Fjord rolled his hips forward once, twice, enjoying the heavy drag of his cock against Caleb’s and the little mewls and gasps as Caleb squirmed at his touch. Still he waited, giving Caleb a chance to change his mind, so say it would be too much, before Fjord rolled his hips, the head of his cock rutting against Caleb’s hole, the slick, used stretch giving way so fucking easily. 

Caleb groaned, sighed, tightened his legs around Fjord’s hips and rolled his own, urging him forward. Quickly, Fjord dribbled more oil over this cock, jacking himself a few times to take the edge off and spread it evenly. Groping at Caleb’s ass, Fjord held him open, transfixed by the needy clench of Caleb’s rim as the broad head of his cock nudged up against it, watching himself sink into him as easy as anything, inch by delirious inch. 

Fjord held his breath, having to pull his eyes away or risk cuming too soon, looking up to Caleb’s face instead. His eyes were glazed over, out of focus. Panting damp and open-mouthed, pleasure, heady and overwhelming, eased the tension of his brow as Fjord sank deeper, slower, until he had bottomed out. 

Fjord shuddered, stilling a moment to let Caleb adjust to his size, and to get a grip on his own self-control. His hands curled tight around Caleb’s waist, pulling his ass snug to Fjord’s hips, rocking deeper, not deep enough. He leaned forward, hiking one of Caleb’s knees up over his shoulder, angling his hips up and pressing forward. 

Caleb moaned, low and wordless, clenching around every inch of Fjord’s pulsing cock, the heat of his walls almost unbearable. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Fjord choked, struggling to force his breath to even out. “Got me all worked up now,” he admitted, a little shakily, gasping as Caleb rolled his hips, clenching around him, drawing him deeper. “ _ Fuck _ ,” he hissed, eyes closed tight, pushing Caleb’s knee up almost to his chest and circling, grinding his hips forward messily.

“Bitte, ich brauche – I need, Fjord,  _ please _ ,” Caleb sighed, squirming under him, hands clenching, knuckles white around the edge of the desk. “Please,” he breathed, head thumping back against the wood. “Let me, please, let me touch,” he gasped,  _ groaned _ , panting as Fjord trailed searing, biting kisses up his throat. 

“Fuckin– yes, love,” Fjord rasped against his collar, his hips rocking forward and back, just slightly, his skin warm and prickling as Caleb’s pleas washed over him. Damn it if he could ever deny this man anything. “Yes, fuck, you can touch yourself.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Caleb’s hands flew from their place above his head, but rather than working a hand between them, he clawed at the back of Fjord’s shoulder, at the back of his neck, tugging him closer, rocking his hips up to meet Fjord’s shallow thrusts. 

Caleb sighed, low, content as Fjord sucked and nipped at his pulse. He was wet and loose, and Fjord’s controlled thrusts fucked into him deep, slow, perfect, stretching him open, impossibly full. But it wasn’t quite what he wanted, not quite building toward orgasm, but drinking in each wave of pleasure rolling over him. 

“Fjord,” he moaned, low in his ear, pulling him up to kiss him. 

Claiming, biting, Fjord’s tongue dipped past his lips, brushing at the roof of his mouth, surging deeper. And Caleb let him, let him take his pleasure,  _ wanted _ it, something filthy and utterly captivating shivering down his spine, curling warm in his belly at the thought of being  _ used _ , fucked deeper, harder as Fjord chased his release. It left his mouth dry, warm pleasure curling tightly in his core, his cock aching as he rutted against Fjord’s hips. 

“Fjord,” he tried again, a wrecked whisper as Fjord’s mouth worked at his jaw, dipped lower. “Just–  _ hrg _ –“ He gasped, shuddered as Fjord’s hips snapped forward, particularly sharp. “Just fuck me,” he rasped, words interspersed with grunts and gasps as Fjord’s pace stuttered, losing some of that measured control over each thrust. “You won’t–  _ ah _ , won’t hurt me. Want you to–  _ ugh, fuck _ , want you to fuck me, use me. Bitte _ , please, _ ” he rasped, purred,  _ begged _ . 

Fjord groaned, low, loud, even as he tried to muffle the sound against Caleb’s throat. “ _ Fuck _ ,” he swore, pulling away slightly, far enough for dark, lust-drunk eyes to lift and search Caleb’s face for something, what exactly Caleb didn’t know. He cursed, guttural and desperate, his hips drawing back further and snapped forward, cock fucking into Caleb fast, deep. It punched the air from Caleb’s lungs, made his toes curl, fingernails scraping at the back of Fjord’s shoulder.

Fjord drew back, lowering Caleb’s calf from over his shoulder carefully and straightening his back to stand between Caleb’s open thighs, both hands gripping his waist, blunted claws sinking into soft skin as he fucked into him  _ hard _ . It made Caleb stifle a cry against the back of his hand, pleasure building, mounting with each thrust and drag against his prostate as Fjord pulled almost completely out of him and sank in again to the hilt. It was bruising almost, nearly pushing Caleb too far up the desk if not for Fjord’s grip on his waist tugging him back into each thrust. 

Fjord groaned, a strained sound as his hips stuttered, his punishing pace slipping as his thrusts slowed, pulling out until the head of his cock caught on the clenching, ruined stretch of Caleb’s rim and slamming back into him. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Caleb,” he gasped, without warning his fingers stroking lightly over the messy slide of Caleb’s cock, fully hard again between them. It made Caleb shudder, his legs jerking, unintentionally pulling Fjord closer, deeper inside. “I can’t keep this up,” he warned, breathing hard, his skin flushed dark and sweat sticking at his temple. 

Caleb didn’t care, rolled his hips against him, wanted him. “ _ Verdammt, _ fuck me,” he whispered, arching into Fjord’s touch, hips a confused stutter up into his hand and down onto Fjord’s cock, pulsing inside him with each thud of Fjord’s heart. “Fuck me, want you inside me,  _ Fjord _ ,” he hissed, grinding down on his cock, wet and loose and not enough. 

Whatever last thread of control Fjord had been holding onto, it snapped. Swearing, his hips jerked forward, his grip on Caleb’s cock tightening as he stroked him off, hard and a touch mean as he fucked into him, each thrust harder, deeper than the last. The pressure that had been building low in Caleb’s belly, spreading, cloying thick and sweet like warm honey rapidly built to a tipping point. Everything – Fjord’s claws on his hip, the hand around his dick thumbing roughly over the tip, his cock inside him, stretching him open, hitting his prostate with each thrust and drag – it was all too much, too fast.

Caleb’s second orgasm took him by surprise, slamming through him and ripping a string of broken Zemnian curses from his throat that ended with a low, shaking keen of sheer relief. His spine arching, locking in place, Caleb’s orgasm pushed Fjord over the edge into his own, walls clenching tight and hot around him as Fjord buried himself to the hilt inside of him and came hard. Fjord’s muscles tensed all at once, trembling and panting before collapsing onto his forearms, hips jerking, rutting into Caleb still, his cock pulsing inside him, fucking his cum deep. 

Caleb drew in his first full, even breath, sinking into the warm haze of pleasure and exhaustion that followed. He was stretched full, clinging to Fjord, not looking forward to the discomfort and emptiness that disentangling would entail. He cradled Fjord’s head against his chest, dragging shaking fingers through his hair, quietly murmuring nothing in particular, soothing in his ear as he came back to himself. 

Fjord groaned, a little pained, a little overwhelmed, pushing himself up onto his elbows to take some of his weight off Caleb’s chest. Caleb bit back a smirk at the deep flush that clung to Fjord’s face and throat, the eyes that looked back at him dark and a bit dazed. Gently, Caleb carded his fingers through his hair, fingers playing over the back of Fjord’s neck in a way that pulled a low hum, nearly a purr from Fjord’s chest, resonating through them both. 

“I think,” Fjord began, his voice rough, thoroughly fucked. “I think I might’ve over promised, a bit.” He sighed, shaking his head before glancing back up to meet Caleb’s gaze. “What the fuck, Caleb?” he asked, confused, amazed, exhausted. 

A soft chuckle bubbled up in Caleb’s chest, pulling a faint smile to his lips. “What,” he said, his words returning to him quietly, his voice just as rough. “Did you not enjoy that?” 

Fjord groaned, pressing his face into Caleb’s collar. “Don’t you fucking– I think you know I did. I mean, with th– what was with the –” stumbling over himself, Fjord hesitated, and just shook his head. “Nevermind,” he croaked, taking a deep, slow breath, if anything only flushing more furiously. 

Caleb smirked at that, biting his lower lip, huffing a shallow laugh. “I like what I like,” he managed, answering Fjord’s unasked question anyway. “You seemed to like it, too,” he teased, poking his ribs, enjoying how it made Fjord flush harder, but granting him a reprieve. “We can revisit it later.” 

“Didn’t even know what I was stumbling into, fuck,” Fjord complained, his head down and hair falling in front of his face. Slowly, carefully, he leaned back, his softening dick slipping from Caleb with a wet slide of oil and spend. Caleb groaned at the loss, and at the slide of Fjord’s thumb over his ruined entrance, not so inconspicuously pushing the slow dribble of his spend back inside of him. “I’ll grab something to clean you up.”

Caleb just chuckled, not quite prepared to move or reorient himself. When he opened his eyes, Fjord was looking around them, nose crinkled in distaste, biting at the inside of his cheek when he noticed Caleb looking, something like guilt behind his eyes. 

“You want help tidying this up?” he offered, motioning hesitantly at the scattered papers and books littering the carpet around the desk, and the ink spilled across the documents near the edge. “I know you wanted to finish this up tonight… sorry if I took it a bit far,” he shrugged, adorably abashed, flush creeping down his chest. 

Caleb huffed, not even prepared to sit up yet, no matter how his spine protested the hard surface and awkward dangle of his legs now that that adrenaline had faded and the need abated. He certainly wasn’t about to throw himself back into his work. “It will be here tomorrow morning,” he sighed, letting his eyes drift close, just for a moment. 

He felt Fjord’s hands gentle at the outside of his thighs as he approached, standing between Caleb’s knees again. 

“Anything I can do?” Fjord asked, leaning down, pressing a soft kiss to Caleb’s sternum, 

Caleb hummed, considering it. He looped his arms around Fjord’s head. “Bed, please.” 

Fjord laughed, kissing Caleb’s cheek lightly. “Sure thing,” he agreed, the happy rumble Caleb had come to think of quite like a cat’s purr starting up behind Fjord’s sternum. Carefully, gently, Fjord pulled Caleb up to sit before hefting him up into his arms. “Want me to join you?” he asked quietly, murmured with another soft press of his lips to the sensitive spot behind Caleb’s ear. 

He sounded altogether too pleased and hopeful to dash it now. Nor did he want to. 

Burying his face in Fjord’s shoulder, Caleb nodded, sighing contentedly. “At least until you have to go.”

Fjord smiled at that, soft and pleased, the curl of his lips against Caleb’s throat. He pressed a light kiss to the dark marks he left there. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

But what Caleb wanted right then, he was quite certain he already had.


End file.
